Harry Potter and the Masked Strangers
by eedd13
Summary: Harry Potter comes back to Hogwarts for his 6th year, noticing that it is surprisingly pleasant. Then he notices small disturbances.. Read and Review!
1. Dudley Day

CHAPTER ONE Dudley Day  
  
When Harry Potter entered the small kitchen of Number Four, Privet Drive, he expected no cheery "good morning" or jovial "happy hello." And what he got was none more than his expectancy. In fact, he was surprised when his Uncle Vernon gave a slight nod in his general direction. Other than that, there was no stir at all. But when Harry realized that all had happened was Vernon was talking to Aunt Petunia and gestured slightly when talking about the Prime Minister, Harry slinked over to the counter and started breakfast.  
This would have shocked any normal person hearing, but it came as no surprise when Harry's whale of a cousin Dudley Dursley entered the room to a tumulous array of greetings and plastered smiles.  
"This is going to be you best birthday ever, dinkilly duddums!" squealed Aunt Petunia with joy.  
"How many?" came the generalized grunt from the mammoth wad of blubber waddling across the room.  
Nobody was surprised about this request of the number of presents.  
  
"52! Isn't that marvelous! It's amazing," Aunt Petunia expressed rapturously. "We know that you'll be jumping out of your skin when you open them!"  
"Not literally, boy, not to worry," said Uncle Vernon with a wobbly chortle. Dudley all but cannonballed into the pyramid of gifts and tore the paper off countless presents. Harry dashed around, picking up the strewn wrapping paper and stuffing it all in a large plastic garbage sack.  
After Dudley was done with his tearing and ripping, Harry was sweating from darting around the kitchen fixing breakfast and cleaning up paper, and Dudley was sweating from having to move his arms around for more than five minutes. Harry served breakfast, and after he was neglected much food, he cleaned up the dishes and scrambled into his room to change his clothes.  
  
Harry ran through his door and flopped on his bed with a wistful "Hey Hedwig." Hedwig was his owl.  
Harry Potter was a wizard. A very neglected one, but great nonetheless. He attended the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he was approaching his sixth year. He didn't belong in the Muggle world, he was meant to be a wizard.  
"HARRY! GET DOWN HERE!" a shout rang from the first floor.  
  
"Yes, Uncle Vernon!" Harry threw on some clothes and ran down the stairs. He was greeted by a bunch of squinting faces. He noticed one of Uncle Vernon's fat, purple fingers resting on a thick, yellow letter with fancy green writing.  
"Your letter came."  
Harry could see why Uncle Vernon was angry. The bird obviously flew into the house and dropped the letter on the table. Aunt Petunia piped up.  
"The ugly thing came into my clean house! On my dinky Dudleyums's birthday!"  
Dudley put on a fake sad face. "He ruined everything!"  
Harry glared at his cousin's pouty face. Uncle Vernon gave Harry a look full of hatred and venom.  
"Listen, I'll just take the letter upstairs, and we'll act like this never happened, okay?" Harry suggested hopefully.  
"If it's okay with Dudley," grimaced Uncle Vernon like an Indian cheated out of too many peace treaties.  
Dudley gave a small, trembling nod. Harry ran over to the table before anyone could change their minds and snatched the letter off. Then he turned and ran up to his room and all but slammed the door. He collapsed on his bed.  
How could life be so unfair? He never had his birthdays noticed, let alone celebrated. The only notice that he ever got on his birthday was, "comb your hair!" from Uncle Vernon. He almost dropped off to sleep. Then he remembered the letter.  
He grabbed it from the foot of his bed and started to read it. It explained what he needed to get for his next year at Hogwarts. But he still had a small problem on his hands. Could he get out of this house? The Dursleys weren't exactly the most charitable people on the planet.  
"HARRY!" Uncle Vernon called again from the first floor. Harry ran down the stairs.  
"Yes, Uncle Vernon!" Harry said as he stumbled over the last step. He wasn't expecting much.  
"Well, the last few years," Uncle Vernon responded. "We noticed that there was always some sort of ordeal here about you getting to. er. London to leave. Well, we don't want any pig tails or ripped steel this year, so we'll take you."  
"Thank you, Uncle Vernon!" Harry replied, astounded.  
"Now, don't sound too cheery about it. Get upstairs to your room."  
Harry ran up the stairs into his room. He closed the door nicely and got out his trunk to finish on some last minute homework.  
Harry never got time to do his homework over the summer away from Hogwarts. The Dursleys were obviously trying to squeeze all the magic out of him, so he wouldn't be able to return to 'that awful place', or give Dudley a pig tail like his giant friend, Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts, did in Harry's first year at Hogwarts.  
Harry didn't know what happened until it was too late. He was writing the ingredients to a Wiggenweld potion on a piece of parchment with his quill, when he dropped a bit of ink. It landed right on his bedspread, on the white part. Harry knew that he would be locked in his cupboard this year.  
Conveniently, Aunt Petunia yelled up from the basement, "HARRY, LAUNDRY!"  
Harry mumbled, "Why me, I had to face Voldemort, and now I have to face Aunt Petunia."  
Voldemort was almost as evil as Harry's Aunt and Uncle. Voldemort was an Evil Wizard formerly named Tom Riddle. He killed a lot of people in Muggle Great Britain, and even more in Wizard Great Britain. He was the most evil person on the planet, and it was him that killed Harry's parents. And just when Voldemort's wand rose up to Harry's forehead and Voldemort mumbled the outlawed Avada Kadevra Killing Curse, nothing happened. In fact, the inverse happened. Voldemort was forced, a quivering blob of primordial soup, into hiding, while Harry escaped with just a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. But did that stop him? No.  
Harry gathered up all the dirty clothes in his bedroom, besides the bedspread, and threw them down the laundry chute.  
"YOUR BEDSPREAD!" Aunt Petunia added after a second. Harry cringed and yanked the spread off the mattress and made sure he could savor his freedom while it tumbled slowly down the chute.  
Harry hoped Aunt Petunia wouldn't notice the ink blotch. But, conveniently, she did. "HARRY JAMES POTTER!" There's a reason God invented the Middle Name. So kids know when they are in trouble. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR BEDSPREAD! INK STAINS. BLOTCHES!"  
Aunt Petunia thundered up the basement stairs. Harry quietly and mournfully stepped down the second floor stairs.  
"What's all this about, honey?" Uncle Vernon inquired, expressing something that remotely resembled concern.  
"I think Harry's been doing his homework up in his bedroom!" Aunt Petunia glared. "I'll leave you to take care of him. Before I explode."  
"Well, well, well, Harry," Uncle Vernon taunted as Aunt Petunia grimaced down the basement stairs. "I don't think you'll be out of your room for a very long time, Harry."  
Harry gaped. He knew something like this would happen. And he knew better than to disagree. He solemnly was led upstairs into his room, his prison. 


	2. The Prisoner

CHAPTER TWO  
  
The Prisoner  
  
Uncle Vernon didn't want history to repeat itself. In his second year, Harry's friend Ron came to bust him out. He tore the steel bars out of the window that time with his flying car. Uncle Vernon set up security cameras in Harry's room, and glued, locked, nailed, clamped, taped, and welded Harry's door shut. Harry thought it was hopeless. Hedwig, Harry's owl, couldn't fly around outside like she needed to. After a few hours of Harry's sentence, Hedwig started scratching at her cage. So once every three days, Harry let Hedwig out into his room to stretch her wings.  
Twice a day, Uncle Vernon would push some soup through the flap in the door left over from Harry's second year. Harry ate his watery soup and let Hedwig eat the vegetables and pieces of meat out of the bottom. Uncle Vernon would push some water through the flap three times a day, and once a day, Harry would fill Hedwig's water up.  
Hedwig had flown six times when Harry awoke in the night to a loud squeak coming from outside his window. Harry hoped Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were fast asleep, not watching the security television. As if to recant Harry's worries, a loud snore erupted from his uncle's bedroom.  
Harry heaved a sigh of relief and opened the window to let the tiny owl fly through the bars. The owl, Ron's, named Pidwegeon, landed on the top of Hedwig's copper cage and raised his left leg to show a letter attached.  
  
Harry,  
Hey, I hope the Dursleys aren't treating you  
too horribly. They probably locked you up again,  
that's why I sent Pig to squeeze through the bars.  
Well, I know that you probably got into a spot of  
trouble over the months, so I'm going to send Fred  
and George to Apparate you to my house, so we can  
take you. I decided that I probably shouldn't tell Her-  
mione, but she found out anyway. I have no idea how.  
  
Probably Ginny. She's been bullying me about it, but  
  
I think that she's gotten tired of talking about it, so  
  
she's not talking about it anymore. I also decided that  
  
I probably shouldn't come up with an absolute time, so  
  
Hermione doesn't make Fred and George not do it.  
  
Stay awake! Good luck!  
  
-Ron  
  
Ron was Harry's savior. All Harry had to do was wait until the Weasley twins appeared in his bedroom at night, and escape with them. Harry gave Pig a pet and sent him with a small thank you note out the window, then fell rapturously on his bed and instantly to sleep.  
  
The weeks went by slowly, and Harry did his best to count the days until he was freed from his awful prison. He ate his disgusting soup, and Hedwig ate her soggy vegetables and drank her dirty water. He answered Vernon's awful questions about how he was doing in there, making it sound like he was miserable. He knew that that would fit Uncle Vernon's wants and needs.  
He dreamt of the night when the Weasley twins would come and free him, and lived reading books and talking to Hedwig.  
In one particular dream, Harry was sitting on his bed reading comics, and he looked out the window and saw Hedwig knocking on the window. He crossed the room and Hedwig flew through the window and landed with a plop on Harry's head. Harry walked back to his bed with Hedwig on his head and read the letter that took place of the comics.  
  
Look up.  
  
-[When it rains, it pours.)  
And Harry looked up and saw Fred and George fall through the ceiling. They nodded curtly, and each seizing an arm and a leg, then popped to the Burrow.  
After a few weeks of these types of dreams, Harry had gotten so apprehensive about the night that Fred and George came, he began staying up all night for the last week before the night.  
But then the night came. Harry had been sitting straight up in his bed, reading a book on Phalkuns, when suddenly, The Weasley twins, Fred and George emerged in his room with a small snap.  
"Come on, Harry. We haven't much time," said Fred, opening the board to get all of Harry's school supplies. Harry grabbed Hedwig, not to forget her like last time.  
While Fred rummaged through the empty space in the board, George made sure Harry was okay.  
"What have they been doing to you?" George whispered.  
"Well," said Harry modestly. "Nothing much. All I'm concerned about is Hedwig. She's been looking awful lately, famined."  
George nodded. "Here. I brought a few treats for her." He winked. "I was expecting the starving part, but not the Azkaban Prisoner part."  
Azkaban was a wizard's prison that Harry's godfather spent nine years in. It was full of horrible creatures, Dementors, which sucked the happiness out of every place they went in. Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, was forced into Azkaban for a murder he did not commit. That's what kept him going though, not going mad like people did normally there. He knew he was innocent. But now, nobody can clear his name.  
Fred noticed the grief on Harry's face and tilted his head to one side. "George, should we go and get his chest?"  
George walked to the door and examined it closely. "It's welded."  
"No doubt, George," said Fred cynically. "How are we going to get it open, though?"  
George ran his finger down the welded part of the door and looked up at Fred. "I don't think we can break into it without magic." Hogwarts students were not allowed to use magic outside the school.  
"Forget that, George. We have a prisoner here. I think him getting out is a little more important than one strike against one of us."  
Everyone in the room knew that it would most definitely not be just strike one. Fred whipped out his wand and pointed it decidedly at the welded part of the door. He hesitated.  
"Um. How about we use. Sevunilus," muttered Fred quietly. A small, thin, powerful flame spurted out of the tip of his wand. It melted the welding like a drip candle. When the melted metal reached the floor, it snaked out in all directions. The door slid open on its hinges.  
"Nice work, Fred," said George, surprised.  
"As always, George," replied Fred. They both walked through the door. Uncle Vernon coughed slightly from the master bedroom.  
Harry groaned a little. It was going to be the escape all over again.  
Suddenly, Harry heard a loud and noticeable creak from the stairs that Fred and George had to go down to get to the cupboard holding Harry's trunk.  
"HARRY!" Uncle Vernon roared from the master bedroom. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"  
Harry lay down on his bed and pretended to be asleep, hoping that his acting would trick Uncle Vernon. That didn't cut it. Uncle Vernon shouted, "DON'T FAKE WITH ME!"  
Harry heard a loud clunk from the stairs and a louder clunk from the master bedroom that told Harry that Fred and George released the trunk, and Uncle Vernon got up.  
Fred and George darted up the stairs and Uncle Vernon rampaged down the hall. Fred and George were quicker. They ran into the room with the trunk as Uncle Vernon arrived at the door. Uncle Vernon barreled into the room as George set his arm on Harry's shoulder. They vanished with a loud pop. The last thing Harry saw as they vanished from the room was Uncle Vernon screaming and tearing hair out of his head. 


	3. The Burrow Again

CHAPTER THREE  
  
The Burrow Again  
  
Harry and the twins appeared in the kitchen of the burrow less than five seconds later. The instant they appeared, Harry's nose filled with the wonderful scent of Mrs. Weasley's cooking. Harry looked around the space. Wonderful sights met his eyes.  
On the old rocking chair next in front of the coffee table, a cat slept on its back. In the sink, silverware washed itself. Harry stepped back a few inches to avoid being impaled by a knife flying toward the silver cabinet. After a few minutes of Harry admiring the view, Ron emerged sleepily from the bottom of the stairs. When he saw Harry, his eyes immediately brightened up.  
"Oy! Harry! You're here!" His face suddenly paled a little and he moved his finger to his lips. "Mum's still asleep. If she catches you she'll kill us!"  
Harry snorted. Ron gestured to come with him.  
Harry followed Ron up the seemingly never-ending stairs to Ron's room, which was painted violently orange wall to wall.  
"You'll sleep here tonight," said Ron. "You get the bed, I'll get the floor."  
Harry nodded. It was good to be home.  
  
The next morning, Harry was a little slow in getting up and out of bed because he didn't know what Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's reactions would be to having a new addition to the house. But the hunger from eating only vegetable soup for four straight weeks took over. Harry strode down the stairs and sat down at the table.  
The Weasleys were so used to random people showing up overnight, they said nothing about how he got there. "Hello! Harry! I'm glad you're here!" said Mrs. Weasley when Harry sat down. Mrs. Weasley put some bacon and waffles in front of Harry and he thanked her and eagerly started eating.  
"My, my, my, Harry. You must have been hungry," noticed Mrs. Weasley when Harry was done. Harry nodded gratefully.  
"Would you like to go out in the hollow and practice Quidditch, Harry?" suggested Ron.  
"I'd love to. You wouldn't believe what the Dursleys were doing to me," Harry said, not trying to get pity.  
They went out into the hollow, and Harry got his Firebolt. They took turns riding it as they threw gnomes around in the air. It didn't hurt them; in fact, it looked like they enjoyed it. Harry zoomed around and welcomed the morning breeze in his face. As he flew, he glanced down to see Ron gazing with his mouth hung open at Harry and his broom. When Harry landed, Ron noticed that he had his mouth open and recovered quickly.  
"Harry, that broom is amazing. I must borrow it, I must!"  
Harry laughed and handed the broom to him.  
Ron took off clumsily. Even with the Firebolt's amazing precision flying, Ron could find some way to be clumsy and lanky. He zoomed around the hollow and fell off close to the ground. The Firebolt zoomed right at George, and he caught it.  
They spent the rest of the time out in the hollow playing around and complimenting each other.  
"Whoa! That was an amazing throw, Harry! You could be a Chaser!"  
"An amazing stop, Ron! No wonder you got carried off the field last year!"  
Ron's ears went red.  
After they were done playing, they went inside, sweating, to get a drink of water. A small, fifth-year girl appeared from the basement stairs.  
"Hi, Virginia," said Harry.  
"You can call me Ginny, Harry."  
Harry blushed.  
"What are you doing here?" Ginny had lost most of her naiveté since they had last talked. She was now a teenage, beautiful girl with striking red hair and was prone for clumsiness.  
"Well, I don't think you'd like to know, Ginny," said Ron. "The Dursleys struck again."  
"Oh." Ginny nodded, obviously thinking about what could have happened. "Well, have a good time here, while you can!" and with that she left.  
"She's getting better looking, isn't she, Harry?" Ron said with a chuckle.  
Harry shook off that remark by filling up his glass of water.  
  
The days passed quickly, as they do when one is having fun. Harry and Ron played Quidditch, Gobstones, and did their homework together.  
"Man, Snape has some problems! We had to right three rolls of parchment on the history of the Sunifurous! Three! He has something serious stuck up his butt to be doing stuff like that!" Ron observed one day.  
"What can you expect?" Harry replied. "He doesn't even like his job."  
"He acts like he does when there are Slytherins there. He needs to drink a cheering potion."  
"Yeah, what do you have so far?"  
"Okay, here's what I have: The Sunifurous Potion by Ron Weasley."  
"Jeez, you must be writing fast. All I have is: The Sunifurous."  
Ron started laughing, and Harry joined in. Harry never ceased being amused at the Burrow. 


	4. The Hogwarts Express

CHAPTER FOUR  
  
The Hogwarts Express  
  
At 6:30 the next day, everyone woke up with the roosters crowing good morning. Harry fell out of his bed when Ron yelled in Harry's ear to "Get out of that bed before my mom yells!"  
  
Then came the huge bustle to get ready for the next year at Hogwarts. Everyone was flying around the house with various items in their hand. Mrs. Weasley yelled at Fred and George for eight minutes for knocking down the door because Ginny was taking too long in the bathroom. Ron was seen with his head buried in a book called "Everything You Need to Know, Ever", walking into walls and furniture.  
But somehow, they managed to get everyone squeezed into two company cars that they were taking to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Mr. Weasley, a balding man with orange hair had charmed the backs of the front seats of the cars to smile at the back seat passengers. When they got to the Platform, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said overlong, tearful goodbyes to their children and Harry and reluctantly left. Then the students walked up the deck to the train. It puffed twice and started chugging down the track.  
Harry and Ron met up with Hermione Granger, a bushy haired girl who became their friend in the first year after fighting a mountain troll. Her teeth used to be long, but she shrunk them when her teeth got cursed in the third year. They found a compartment to themselves and caught up on all they had missed.  
"How have you two been? I got Ron's letter, Harry, he said you were locked up in your bedroom again."  
"Yeah, he was starving in there," said Ron. "So then I had Fred and George Apparate him out, just like I told you."  
Hermione looked wide-eyed at Harry. "That's against the rules! They and Harry could have been expelled, Ron! Too bad I wasn't there!"  
"What? You didn't know about it?" Ron looked perplexed.  
"I most certainly didn't, or I would have said something about it!" retorted Hermione.  
"Odd, but it was a good idea nonetheless."  
Hermione shook her head. "No, Ron. You need to think more the next time you just break out and do things like that."  
"I thought long and hard about it! Didn't I, Harry?"  
Harry shrugged. "I don't know."  
"Thanks, Harry," said Ron. "That helped."  
The train made a sharp left turn. Someone knocked on the compartment door. He peered in.  
"Malfoy," they all said together.  
  
Draco Malfoy was Harry's worst enemy. He was nasty, mean, and selfish. Harry slid open the compartment door to let Draco in. He strutted in and sat down next to Hermione. Hermione scooted away from him.  
  
"So, Harry," Draco began snidely. "Had a good summer? Or did you get yourself locked up again."  
"Why do you care?" asked Ron.  
"Because, I always care about my fellow Hogwarts student's pleasure. Haven't I always?  
Harry noticed that there is nothing on Earth that Draco didn't always do besides what he just said. Harry didn't bother to point this out.  
"I did get myself locked up again," said Harry. "For a month. But Ron's brothers saved me again." Harry saw Malfoy flicker. Harry continued. "It's amazing how such simple people can do extraordinarily amazing things, isn't it, Malfoy."  
Malfoy was very rich. "Amazing." Malfoy nodded sourly. He was noticeably put down. He filed out of the door.  
"Well," said Ron. "Our pal Malfoy seemed to be cheery today. Glad he wasn't when he left." He turned to Harry. "Simple people?"  
"You know what I was trying to say."  
Ron nodded. "Well, at least it made Malfoy pucker up. I swear, if that Malfoy does anything this year, I'm going to pummel that idiot right in the a-"  
Harry was distracted. When he looked up at Ron to get the full effect of this curse word, he noticed someone walk by- a very pretty someone with long, straight black hair. Hermione noticed.  
"You miss her, don't you, Harry?"  
Thankfully, the trolley witch drove her trolley by the compartment. "Anything you want to buy?"  
Harry bought Ron and Hermione a very generously large lunch. As they had their lunch conversation, Harry noticed that his two friends were obviously trying to keep away from touching the tender subject of Sirius's death. Suddenly he felt a small surge of anger build up inside of him. Why couldn't his friends just talk about what they wanted to talk about? But then he remember the last time they just spoke without thinking, and how he had blown it up in their faces. Harry's feeling of guilt was broken by a voice over the loudspeaker.  
"Um, students of Hogwarts, we're going to, um. have to make an, ah. unexpected pause in our journey. Do not be alarmed."  
Harry looked at Ron. "What was that all about?"  
Ron shrugged.  
Suddenly, the train jolted to a stop. All three braced for the stop. Ron laughed.  
"`Scabbers' would be going insane right now," he said, smiling about what he missed.  
There was a very distant splash, and the three looked out the window. They were on a bridge, and a small lake beneath them was slightly disturbed in one area. They looked closer, and noticed that a man was flailing around in the lake.  
"There's a man down there!" exclaimed Hermione. She looked closer. "It's the conductor!"  
"What's he doin' down there, takin' a little dip, shouldn't he be driving the train?" said Ron obliviously.  
A new voice cackled over the loudspeaker. "Hello, students of 'Hogwarts', my name is Roger McHaffenson, and I will be stealing your money today. Send it up with the trolley witch who is so cheerfully coming down the aisle, please."  
"Oh my gosh!" cried Hermione. "We're being hijacked!"  
"No, we're being robbed," corrected Ron. "Which is worse." He made his way to the aisle and looked both ways. "No trolley witch." He looked to the right, the front of the train. "I can't see that far."  
Harry made his way to the aisle as well. All down the train students were sticking their heads out of their compartments. "Neither can I."  
"Well," Hermione said. "That's because you need a little better eyesight." She scooted across the compartments and tapped on Harry's glasses with her wand. "Macrivisilo!"  
Harry was quite startled by his new change of perspective. It seemed as though his eyes were little telescopes, which could be adjusted just by moving his eyes around. He spotted a ladybug's thirteen dots outside the window. When he turned dutifully toward the engine of the train, the hijacker walked out from behind the left side of the very front compartment. His brown curly hair fell in short locks to the last quarter of his forehead. He had a sickening smile on his angular face. He was dressed in a white shirt pulled over khaki suspenders, with neat shoes.  
Harry blinked twice and returned his gaze to his friends. "He's a Muggle."  
Hermione gasped.  
"Well, students, this 'Hogwarts' is pretty accomplished, I see," the hijacker remarked over the intercom. Harry saw him sneering. "That walk- through-the-barrier thing was interesting. I happily saw a black-haired boy and his flamy friend walk straight through the wall. Imagine my surprise! But, since you people are so obviously advanced, I thought, heck, I might as well rob you."  
Suddenly, a nudge on the door announced the arrival of the trolley witch. But this wasn't the witch. She had streaming, shining blonde hair and a thin, mousy face. She had a look of urgency in her icy blue eyes. It was Fleur Delacour, a quarter-veela student of Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
"What are you doing-" exclaimed Ron as he noticed her familiarity.  
Fleur made a small gesture of silence with her right hand as she pulled a silver coin out of her purse with her left. "Change for a sickle?"  
Harry immediately drew twenty-seven bronze Knuts out of his money bag and gave them to Fleur.  
"I'm going to try to stop this guy," said Fleur in a perfect English accent as she gave Harry a shiny silver sickle.  
"I see you've been brushing up on your English, Fleur," said Hermione approvingly.  
Fleur smiled and dashed off down the aisle. Harry watched her down the aisle. She slowly made her way to the engine, stopping at every compartment to get coins from the various students. When she reached the engine, the hijacker looked at the pitiful pile of coins in her hand and thundered into the microphone.  
"48 little shiny thingies is all you miserable three-fingered banjo playing inbreds could muster? I have a feeling that I'm playing to an empty house here! Do you not realize that your train is being hijacked?"  
Harry watched from the compartment. Fleur was pulling out her wand. She crept up behind her furious captor, and muttered something unheard. The hijacker obviously heard her, because he had just enough time to turn around before ropes sprang from the tip of Fleur's wand and wrapped around him.  
He flailed around vainly. She flung him out of the open engine door. Not one student on the train didn't see him landing in the lake with a huge splash and Fleur recovering the conductor with the same spell, except for Neville Longbottom, who was presently looking for a small, cactus-like plant. When all was done, the train burst into tumulous applause.  
Fleur bowed herself back to Harry's compartment. The three patted her on the back as she sat down next to Hermione.  
"That was amazing, Fleur!" exclaimed Hermione as Fleur sat down. "Why are you here?"  
"Haven't you heard?" Fleur, smiling cheek to cheek. "I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"  
Only eighteen, Fleur Delacour did not look like a teacher. She looked like a student.  
"That's excellent!" cried Hermione.  
"You really didn't miss a beat, did you?" said Ron. "I mean, graduating, then going directly back to school again."  
"Ron!" said Hermione.  
"What happened to Firenze?" asked Harry.  
"Long story." Fleur tossed her hair over her shoulder.  
"We've got time," Ron pointed out. "The train ride lasts four hours."  
"Well," Fleur started. "Professor Dumbledore has been letting Firenze live in the castle, of course, so the centaurs in the forest aren't too happy."  
"Yeah," said Hermione. "We experienced that first hand."  
"I figured as much. But anyway, a few weeks ago, the centaurs rallied up, and stormed the castle."  
Hermione gasped.  
"Exactly. Dumbledore was injured. He got a broken leg. After things settled down, he sent Firenze to Chile to live."  
"Firenze couldn't have been to happy about that!" exclaimed Hermione.  
"Stars are stars," said Ron nonchalantly.  
"Ron!" exclaimed Hermione.  
Ron shrugged. Suddenly the train started to slow down. "We must be here!"  
They all gazed out of the window. Harry smiled widely, both outwardly and inwardly. As the train slowed down more and more. They pulled into Hogsmeade Station.  
"Ooh, I'm so excited!" whispered Fleur nervously, wringing her hands. Hermione put her hand on Fleur's shoulder. That relaxed both of their nerves a little.  
In the distance, they heard a booming, familiar voice calling over and over again, "Firs' years, firs' years!" The voice belonged to Hagrid, the gamekeeper of Hogwarts.  
Then the train came to a sudden halt. Hagrid's voice continued.  
Hermione and Ron said their goodbyes to Harry and Fleur and got up. "We've got to go round up the munchkins 'fore they fall in the lake," said Ron sarcastically.  
"See ya then, guys," Harry said reluctantly.  
There was an awkward minute after the two left while Fleur and Harry sat in the compartment together, alone. Neither could leave until Professor McGonagall showed up, so they sat there in a self-conscious silence as they waited.  
"So, Harry," started Fleur, but she was stopped short by Professor McGonagall's shrill voice shrieking for all the new teachers to get off the train. This sparked interest in Harry. There were more than one new teachers this year.  
"Well, see you around, Harry." Fleur left a small kiss on Harry's forehead before she walked out the compartment door.  
Harry was shocked. Why would she kiss him? He dismissed it immediately from his mind, though. "Must be a French thing." 


End file.
